Beautiful Darkness

➵A Controlled Crash

The wind is as loud as a train. Unrelenting, it has made the already chilly weather feel frozen. My body is accustomed to the cold. Dark territory gets little warmth from the sun; hence why fires are constantly lit. While I may be familiar with the cold's bitter bite, a shiver still runs its way down my back. My teeth are chattering as I cross my arms to insulate body heat to the best of my capability.

Several hours have passed since the adventure involving the waterfall. Its peaceful reprieve didn't last long. Maybe an hour passed before everyone was dry and continuing towards the capital.

I have been thinking a lot about what Roman said. How he believes that the race isn't the initial cause of all the reckless destruction around us. While his opinionated comments made sense at the time I can't help but think there was an agenda to them. I know how he feels about my kind. I can't trust him and I need to make the abundantly clear. Stay away from him, Arailia.

I mean... just look at him. My eyes discreetly peer over. His roughly 5"10 and brooding form stand out from the guards. Roman is clearly muscular and due to his position as commander of the Light army, I assume he would have many scars. Currently, he seems lost in his thoughts. Normally, a cold and hardened expression would be plastered across his face. In this moment however, slight vulnerabilities crack through. Conflict is etched across him. What is causing it remains a mystery. The strong and independent way he carries himself and his attempt at undetected protectiveness screams not to trust him. Well, in my eyes anyways.

Natalia draws my attention next. Her face is so contorted it seems painful. It appears as if she is trying to remember something so intensely that she might pop a blood vessel. Her steel eyes snap to mine then down to my collarbone.

"How did you get that scar?" All eyes are on me as she bluntly asks a noticeably personal question. I strain to remember but my subconscious refuses. The memory of it seems devastatingly painful- something my body never wants me to remember. Aside from the mental distress being caused, I am physically unable to remember. Her noticing it so easily causes me to fumble and pull up the neckline of the shirt I am wearing.

"I... don't know." I hesitate.

"Natalia. You are intelligent enough to be able to tell what topics should and should not be asked about." Roman scolds. His eyes briefly look down to where I just covered up. He must have realized what it looked like he was observing because he turns away quickly.

"That wasn't my purpose, Commander Asshole. It was the first thing that I saw and I had to see if I was the only one. I can't remember certain things. Major aspects of my life and recent events, yes. But when I think back to training or missions... there's nothing." Natalia seems very distressed. Roman takes a thoughtful pause.

"I can't remember my brother's name." Collin voices. Panic is splashed across his entire demeanor.

"I don't remember leaving the White Willow." Several of the guards agree with each other.

I don't understand. How are memories being repressed?

"Are any fae nearby?" It's the only logical assumption and I can come up with.

"No." The tracker confirms.

"What is going on?" Natalia questions.

A feeling hits my senses. A repressed memory trying to crawl its way out of the drums in my skull. A realization. Something isn't right.

I attempt to shake off this intuitive feeling; It is nearly impossible. I observe our surroundings. It's an ordinary looking woods. Complete with decaying leaves and fresh air. Nothing appears out of the ordinary.